


thankful for you

by skyestiel



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Post-Season/Series 01, i just want them to hug and be friends again, oops i'm in love with another show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 16:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyestiel/pseuds/skyestiel
Summary: What’s wrong with me?Adora squeezes her eyes shut.“I'm thankful…” She manages between pants, “I'm thankful for—”As if the thought alone summoned her, an unmistakable voice crackles through the air. “Hey, Adora.”or: When Adora is asked what she’s thankful for, the answer surprises even her.





	thankful for you

**Author's Note:**

> hey, demons, it’s ya girl! i’m sure no one is surprised that i wrote a she-ra fic (and plan to write plenty more in the future). this is something super short i impulsively wrote on thanksgiving day, which i’m sure is obvious. after watching the show a second time all the way through, i knew i had to at least whip _something_ up to keep myself from getting distracted when i have other wip’s to finish. this is unbeta’d and only changed slightly from the original on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tobiologist/status/1065728524496093185). but this tag deserves all the love and all the fics in the world!!! anyways i hope everyone enjoys!

 

If there's one thing Adora will never get used to in Bright Moon, it's the feasts.

Tables swathed in glittering cloth, crystals dripping from the ceiling like raindrops. Complete with a spread of food straight from Adora's wildest dreams. The delicious odors of meats and sweets alike linger in the halls as Adora joins the rest of the Princess Alliance for the celebration.

Which, by the way, is something else Adora has yet to get used to. There weren't “celebrations” in the Fright Zone, no “parties.”

But according to Glimmer, a celebration was in order after their victory over the Horde. Well, according to Glimmer and her _mother_ , the Queen.

Adora slinks awkwardly into the room and claims the seat between Bow and Glimmer.

“Hey, Adora,” Bow greets, flashing her a grin. “Are you ready to take your taste buds on a culinary journey?”

“Uh, sounds kind of ominous…” Adora slants a look at Glimmer. “But yes? I guess so?”

“Don’t worry, my mom brought in some of the best chefs Bright Moon has to offer,” Glimmer seconds with a nod. “I can't wait until you try the flower cakes and the roasted duck!”

A smile plays at Adora's lips. She grows quiet and allows Glimmer and Bow to continue ranting and raving about the meal. Their arms waving and eyes twinkling, occasionally nudging Adora to get her input.

Eventually, the rest of the princesses (and Sea Hawk, an honorary princess at this point) filter into the room. They settle around the table, chatting and eying the feast expectantly. Once they're all seated, Angella stands and a hush falls over the room.

“Now, to celebrate this occasion, we will each name things we are thankful for.” Angella spreads her arms out. “We must appreciate what we have in this life. Before… before it is gone.”

There's a melancholy edge to her tone that makes Adora harden her jaw. She can't imagine how hard it's been, how much she misses her husband. The same husband the Horde killed.

_Stop_ , Adora scolds herself. _Chill. Just enjoy the party._

“And we will start with Adora,” Angella chimes, “As she is new to this tradition.”

_Never mind, time to panic._

“Me?” Adora squeaks, clutching a fist to her chest. “I mean, I would be— shouldn't Her Majesty—?”

Angella lifts a hand, and Adora's mouth snaps shut. “Nonsense. Please, be my guest.”

Okay, she can do this. It's just a list, right? Adora can make lists. She's got this.

“Oh, well, uh.” Adora chuckles nervously. “I'm thankful for a lot, I guess. Like…”

Her words trail off, and she’s met with eager stares and confused glances. After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, Glimmer clears her throat just as Bow lightly jabs Adora in the side. Adora jolts, ramrod straight in her seat and blurts, “For Glimmer and Bow! They’re the ones who showed me the truth about the Horde and have been such great friends ever since.”

She twists her head left and right, preening under the weight of both Glimmer and Bow's matching grins.

“And…” Adora sets her sights on Angella, gladly welcoming the unexpected swell of courage washing over her. “I'm thankful for you and all of Bright Moon for taking me in and accepting me. I'm honored, I really am. And, well. I’m thankful for all the princesses here tonight. You trusted me, and if it weren't for you, there wouldn't _be_ a Princess Alliance.”

Adora can barely handle the excited energy thrumming through the group gathered for the occasion. Nervously, she plays at the buckle of the belt cinching her waist.

“And I'm also thankful for Cat—”

The word sticks in her throat like glue. A name that used to feel as easy and natural as breathing.

“I'm— I'm sorry, I'll be right back…” Adora nearly knocks her plate and silverware off the table in her haste to stand.

“Adora?” Glimmer whispers, brows furrowed. “Adora!”

It's too late, though. Adora's legs have adopted a mind of their own. They carry her through corridors, around corners, over the threshold and into her bedroom.

The door slams shut behind her and shakes dangerously on its hinges. Adora steps over pillows and bottles of perfume, Bow's sleeping bag, and stumbles over to the window. She slaps her palms on the windowsill and tries to steady her breathing.

_What’s wrong with me?_ She squeezes her eyes shut.

“I'm thankful…” She manages between pants, “I'm thankful for—”

As if the thought alone summoned her, an unmistakable voice crackles through the air. “Hey, Adora.”

Adora turns on her heel and crouches into a fighting stance. She peers at Catra over her raised fists. “How did you get in here?”

Catra shrugs and ambles across the room like she owns it, tail swishing distractingly behind her. “I have my ways. Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to.”

“ _How_ did you get in here?”

“Geez, calm down. I'm not here to start anything.” Catra rolls her eyes. “Attacking a bunch of princesses while they stuff their faces would be boring.”

“Sorry destroying the Rebellion is so _boring_ to you,” Adora bites. A shiver trickles down her spine as Catra continues to inch closer.

Even now, Adora finds herself wanting to smooth down Catra's hair, to clutch her hand, to bandage the scratches on her forearms. Distantly, she wonders if Shadow Weaver has yelled at Catra lately. If, afterwards, Catra had to stew in her feelings alone, without Adora there to comfort her as she always had in the past.

Catra stops within a foot of Adora and turns around. “So, you never finished.”

Adora blinks. “Huh?”

“You never finished your little speech. What else are you thankful for?” Catra rasps, backing up until their bodies are almost flush—like at the Princess Prom. With Catra, in her maroon suit, claws tracing lightly over Adora’s spine through the thin material of her dress. Adora's heart pounds traitorously in her chest. “C'mon, Adora. Inquiring minds would like to know what the great _She-ra_ is thankful for.”

“Catra…”

Carefully, Catra glances over her shoulder in a motion so similar to when they danced together that Adora's pulse grows deafeningly loud in her ears.

“What else?” Catra breathes, each word a warm huff against Adora’s skin.

“You already know.” Adora's fingers twitch restlessly at her side. Aching to reach out and— and do _something_ , anything to fix this.

“Do I?”

“ _Catra_.”

And, in a tone wholly uncharacteristic of Catra, she begs, “Please.”

Adora has never been one to deny Catra. Leaving the Horde is the first time Adora has willingly made a decision she knew would upset her.

“You,” Adora sighs helplessly. “Of course it's you, Catra.”

Catra releases a long and shaky exhale. Adora lifts her arms, just barely, just enough to wrap around Catra and tug her into a hug but—

“You've really lost it.” A hysterical cackle falls from Catra's mouth as she dances out of reach. “Wow, being thankful for— for your enemy. The princesses are definitely brainwashing you.”

“We can fix this,” Adora blurts. She feels like a broken record but knows, in her heart, that she _will_ find a way to bring Catra to her senses.

“I’m not the one who needs fixing.”

_Ouch._ Adora cautiously steps closer, watching Catra approach the window. “Listen…”

“Goodbye, Adora,” Catra murmurs. And, in moments, she slips back into the night and draws further and further away. From Bright Moon, from the Rebellion.

Further away from Adora.

It takes several minutes for Adora to finally move and flop on top of her bed. She groans and rolls onto her stomach, burying her face in the nearest pillow.

“I'll fix this,” she growls, clenching the covers in her fists. “I _will_ fix this, Catra.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> BUT THEN THEY'RE REUNITED AND EVERYTHING IS FINE!!! 
> 
> thank you so _so_ much for taking the time to read this!! i'm really excited to write more for this fandom in the future. all of your comments and kudos mean the world to me!! if you want to yell about catra and bow and the rest of the amazing spop cast, you can find me on tumblr and twitter: **@tobiologist**


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